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The Housewife Watches CNN

An accident at first, her husband gone
to work, her stranded sans remote
atop the treadmill, two miles still to run.
And so, she watches. The volume low, she notes
how still it blares; above, a comedy reel
the feed below: The snow will turn to ice
by morning. Senator ready to deal.
And on the screen a graph: the cost of rice
is up—the line that maps her pulse the same—
and so the poorest of the world won’t eat.
A blast in Pakistan kills four, more maimed.
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Her cat observes the show, but that’s not news.
She always stares. Even when there’s nothing there.